


Couple's Therapy: Part 1

by altogether_strange



Series: Couple's Therapy [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Bondage, Kinky, Multi, Oral Sex, Original Characters - Freeform, Original Female Character - Freeform, Original Male Character(s) - Freeform, POV Third Person Omniscient, Smut, Tickle torture, Tickling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 04:21:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19288021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/altogether_strange/pseuds/altogether_strange
Summary: They had no idea how to define what it was they were about to do. Devin defined it as "tickle torture," and Chris honed in on the "torture" aspect of it. V even joked once that it was "couple's therapy."





	Couple's Therapy: Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> This series of fics is based on some sexual fantasies I've been having lately. They were constantly on my mind so I thought writing them down might alleviate that a bit since I can't jack off on account of the fact that I'm recovering from a recent top surgery.  
> These are characters I created, I made up their names when I wrote the first story because alternating pronouns with two dudes made it too confusing. Not that I put much effort into naming them, I literally called one of them "V" because I was too lazy to come up with an actual name lmao. Self deprecation aside, does anyone like this thing I wrote? Even a little bit? I'm gonna write two more and post them here no matter what because if I don't I'm just gonna delete them out of shame. Please don't hate this. I've felt enough shame over the past few years to fill up a few lifetimes. (Hence the top surgery :P)  
> I've been writing tickle fics for years but I always delete them immediately after completing them... kssshhhhh maybe that's what I should've done with this one...

They had no idea how to define what it was they were about to do. Devin defined it as “tickle torture,” and Chris honed in on the “torture” aspect of it. V even joked once that it was “couple’s therapy.”  
It had cost an arm and a leg to get in, but they had come here with the intention of losing mobility.  
“Alright, who wants to go first?”  
When the boys shied away from the question, she volunteered.  
They entered a vast room made entirely of smooth concrete. On the surrounding walls, soundproofing foam stood six feet high, leaving at least another six uncovered. To say the room was big was an understatement.  
Dev was instructed by the two workers who they had contacted to get into this place to lay down on her back on a table lined with black leather over thin padding. She raised her arms above her head and watched with a coy expression as her men were given a crash course on how to restrain her.  
Her arms were folded above her head, bent at the elbow in a right angle. Each hand was rested over the opposite elbow and her forearms were sheathed in black leather, encased tightly to restrict any possible movements. Her skin was left exposed up to the bend of the elbow despite for a thick padded strap that belted her biceps to the table below.  
Every time they finished restraining a section of her body, she was asked to move around and test the strength of the binds and make light of any possible areas for improvement. By the end of it,  
she was positioned like an upside-down “Y,” with her legs stretched apart by a black metal spreader bar. Just above her hips was a black belt similar to the ones which secured her biceps, leaving room for both her sides and hipbones to be taken advantage of while also increasing her immobility. Her calves were sealed to the table with the same black leather that bound her upper arms. The spreader bar was tied to each of her ankles with black padded belts that were attached to the inner recesses of the table, warranting no movement from her ankles.  
Despite the minimal bondage, she was stretched so taut from the top to the bottom of the table that the most movement she could muster was the rise and fall of her midsection with her breathing and the turning of her head.  
The employees left them alone in the room after confirming Devin’s comfort and promising the three of them that they could have the room for as long as they liked. They did, after all, pay handsomely for three whole sessions.  
Once the echo of the closed door petered out, Dev felt a delicious tension wash over herself and the guys. The anticipation sent excited chills racing down her skin. The silence was sensual.  
Chris appeared above her and she didn’t bother trying to contain her enthusiasm.  
“You’re loving this already,” he purred, slowly bending down so that he could speak directly into her ear. As he did so, she felt V stroke with one hand down her ribcage to the belt that held her torso in place. Goosebumps rippled over her body once again and she sighed pleasurably, closing her eyes.  
“Don’t look away from me.” Chris instructed, straightening to tower above her once again. She opened her eyes immediately and peered into a matching pair of bottomless brown orbs.  
She was taken back to a time when a stranger mistook the two lovers for siblings. Eye color draws no genetic similarity between two people, but what did that person know? They lived in Louisiana, after all…  
It wasn’t until Chris spoke again that she realized she hadn’t been paying any attention to the words he had said, rather the way his lips moved as he formed them.  
“Are you listening to me, little girl?”  
Chills again. She simply smirked and noticed the sly smile he tried to contain in response.  
“I think you’re enjoying this a little too much.” Chris mused.  
“We haven’t even started yet.” V warned in a similarly sexy tone.  
Suddenly Chris was down at her level again. Murmuring, no whispering in her ear things that made her feel high.  
“You better watch how you act around me, little one. You know just how wicked I can be to you without restraints.”  
Involuntarily, she ticked her chin to the ceiling and moaned softly, eyes closing once again.  
Chris noticed now that V had his hands on her chest and was smirking at her as he massaged her breasts. He swallowed, feeling himself start to swell. He chided himself for teasing Dev the way he did when he was now getting excited before anything exciting had even begun.  
Slowly, almost unnoticeably, V slid his hands away from her chest in the direction of her arms. Eyes still shut, Dev giggled softly at the feeling of his short nails gliding oh so slowly along her smooth skin. He stopped before he could make contact with her underarms and started to flutter his fingers against the skin of her breasts that was exposed on either side of her bra.  
Her laughter reached a higher pitch and increased in volume. The skin of the bridge of her nose crinkled as she laughed. It was chirpy and melodic, involuntarily amused but far from displeased.  
“ _There’s_ the spot,” V murmured, dragging his words out in a teasing tone. “Every girl I’ve ever met has this tickle spot.”  
He could see her cheeks begin to flush pink. He knew it was very possible that they were flushing from her laughter, but in the back of his mind he knew that she was mildly embarrassed to hear him speak of past girls. And he knew she loved it. Hearing him talk about old flames or old friends and knowing that she was his one and only, and that she could put him in his place if he ever doubted that, as well as relishing in the thought that she wasn’t good enough and would have to continue to prove herself to him to make it into his verbal hall of fame.  
Ah, the masochist in her.  
He retracted his hands to stroke either side of her ribcage, slowly and gently, while Chris’s fingertips made contact with the skin of the underside of her elbows. He traced the lines of her tattoos down to the end of her biceps and pulled his hands back up tantalizingly slowly, exciting her nerve endings with a feather-light touch. She shut her eyes tightly as she pulled her expression into a point, wrinkling her nose and squeezing her lips into a tight smile. An amusing reaction to the molestation of the uncomfortably sensitive skin of her arms. Knismesis could be so cruel.  
In an unspoken kind of agreement, Chris and V began zeroing in on her underarms from their opposing positions on her body. The combined feeling of their fingertips creeping down her arms and up her ribs made Devin want to squirm, but her desires were thwarted by the leather that bound her snugly to the table. She literally could not move.  
Once their four hands made contact with the seductively smooth, deliciously sensitive skin under her arms, she let out a squeal and shook her head to either side, clenching her jaw to try and contain the laughter bubbling up in her chest.  
“Holding back isn’t gonna make this end any sooner,” V warned her with a shit eating grin on his face. Chris smirked at this taunting display of dominance, a tingling feeling racing down his spine. This wasn’t going to end soon at all. This day was devoted to taking it slow. Taking part in one of Dev’s (many) kinky fetishes and taking advantage of each other. He tried to put the knowledge out of his mind that he would eventually have to be the one on this table; that was the agreement. Each of them had to take a turn as the lee, including him. He hadn’t thought anything of it at the time, too swept up in fantasizing the things he would do to his two subs with that much power. He assumed now that they had been thinking the exact same thing about him.  
He swallowed and brought himself back to the present moment.  
Refocused his eyes on her blushing cheeks and the few strands of hair that had come loose from her bun.  
Tuned out the hammering of his heart with the gorgeous sound of her laughter.  
The guys let up and watched as she caught her breath with closed eyes.  
Chris positioned his hands on either side of her face and caressed her cheeks. She tilted her head up and opened her eyes to look at him. She smiled as she panted softly with parted lips.  
He bent down and planted a gentle kiss on her hairline. He heard her hum affectionately.  
“Aww… are you being nice to me now?”  
He chuckled softly into her hair.  
“Not even close.”  
With that he stood and took a few steps around the right side of the table to stand at her side.  
And then their hands were all over her again, stroking the skin of her torso and her thighs, and she knew this could only end badly for her but she relished in it anyway. This had been her idea, after all. She was a switch and wanted to exercise that with her two favorite people. The people whose bodies she knew every inch of in the dark but still wanted to explore all over again. And she, too, wanted to be explored—god, she wanted to be _ravaged_. She wanted to be destroyed by them and then built back up and put on top to destroy _them_ , and she knew after that the sex would be fantastic.  
Hell, she was getting wet even now. The way V worked her thighs with his small soft hands made her wish she wasn’t restrained so precisely so that she could gyrate her hips and beckon him close enough to hump his hand to a mediocre climax. She didn’t even need his fingers. She was getting so worked up just thinking about it: grinding her clit against the heel of his hand and grazing it along the tips of each of his fingers until she was so close that all she had to do was—  
Her overwhelming train of thought was brought to a screeching halt when V slid his hand into the curve of muscle below her hip where her left thigh met her snatch and started squeezing, causing her nerves to shoot rapid fire warning signals to her brain. Her eyes popped open and she shrieked, quick and loud, before dissolving into frantic laughter and shaking her head wildly from left to right.  
She heard him laughing and the both of them taunting her or at least saying words, but her brain was more occupied with sending panicked signals to the rest of her body to move, do anything to stop this disastrous assault on what was probably the most ticklish area of her body.  
She threw her head back and squeezed her eyes shut when she felt V’s other hand connect with the same spot on her right leg. He had his left arm crossed over his right to reach for it. His opposite hands had a better grip on each of her thighs; more control over the movement of his fingers and the ability to make her scream.  
And scream she did.  
This was torture. But it was also exciting. Sadistic. Invigorating. It turned her on while at the same time driving her crazy and she didn’t know which feeling to submit to.  
Now she could feel Chris’s thumbs start drilling into the curve of her hips and she tried desperately to buck against the belt around them, but it held fast.  
Their hands switched positions occasionally, finding new spots all over her legs that drove her crazy. One in particular, the muscle beneath where her thigh met the curve of her ass, was violated repeatedly, on both legs by both parties, and even when they relinquished their torment she could feel her skin tingling with residual sensitivity. She shivered as the last of her giggles escaped her lips while she caught her breath.  
“Regretting this now?” V asked smugly, but she continued to smile.  
“Not even a little bit.” She retorted once she regained composure. “Especially since I get to have my revenge on you once this is over.”  
The smirk lingered on his face but he shut up. He wasn’t nervous, per se, he wasn’t even that ticklish. And the bondage excited him. But he knew his girlfriend enjoyed being tickled just as much as she enjoyed dishing out the torture on others. Not to mention, beneath the leather concealing her upper arms she had those long, pointed gel nails that he had no idea how she possibly used her phone with, and those looked dangerous. Black and sleek and almond-shaped… she probably had them done just for this occasion.  
Well, he had agreed to this, after all. His funeral. He figured until then, he’d take advantage of the pretty little tickle toy displayed before him.  
He spread his arms over her, angling his hands above either side of her stomach. He closed the distance between his skin and hers in a V-shaped motion and dug his fingertips into her sides. His attack was met with a shriek that dissolved into her characteristically precious laughter. He could see her trying desperately to writhe against the leather that bound her but even her strongest attempts only granted her about an inch of wiggle room.  
The small diamond in her captive bead navel piercing caught the light of one of the fixtures on the ceiling and the small glimmer caught Chris’s eye. Absorbed by mirth as V’s hands traveled up to her ribcage, never once breaking contact with her ghostly pale skin, Dev didn’t notice her other boyfriend’s fingers walking up her right side and across her rapidly rising and falling stomach until he spoke.  
“What do we have here?” His softly spoken words carried mellifluously through the air and into her ears. Breathing heavy, she lifted her head and craned her neck to gaze down at her midsection and then up at him. She lay her head back down and met the eyes of V, who peered down at her with raised brows and the ghost of a smirk haunting his lips.  
Smiling, breathless but far from tired, she closed her eyes and shook her head.  
“No?” Chris prompted, his tone dripping with sarcasm.  
“Would you rather I go back here, then?” He slipped his free right hand over her left thigh and poised his fingers around her sweet spot. Just the feeling of his imminent attack sent her head back up. With widened eyes, she shook her head again.  
“No.”  
But she was smiling. It was a nervous smile, crazed, but there was something about it that anyone who wasn’t her boyfriend wouldn’t have picked up on. Chris, however, recognized it immediately. He eyed V, who wore a similar expression to his. She wanted it. She wanted him to tickle her in her worst spot; she wanted him to make her lose control and she wanted to be overwhelmed by the torturously erotic sensations. She couldn’t get enough of this. It was her idea to put herself in this predicament and it showed.  
“What about…” Chris began, drawing out the words in a playful hushed tone, “both? At the same time?”  
She was giggling before he even did anything. Anticipatory giggles. She wasn’t even putting much effort into shaking her head again. She wanted this and it was obvious now.  
Slowly, gently, he began to knead his fingers into her thigh and her laughter increased in speed and energy. Now V was creeping his fingers down her arms and she could feel what little fingernails he had brush along her skin with each motion and it was maddening.  
“Nohohot you…” she was having trouble enunciating her words amidst her laughter. “Not you, too!”  
Lies. She wanted them both. She wanted all they could give her. _Would_ give her. Her torture was imminent.  
“You know you love me…” V purred into her ear, resting his chin on the table beside her head. He trailed the tip of his tongue along the shell of her ear as he began moving his fingers in the hollows of her underarms, oh so slowly bending and extending them in a fluid motion from pinkie to index finger.  
She turned her head away from him and then back, back and forth once again, as Chris’s hand dug into her thigh, squeezing quickly and relentlessly, each of his fingers touching the worst (best?) possible area of her already most severely ticklish spot. And just when she thought she was in the thick of it, she felt the index finger of his left hand dip into her navel and dig in, moving back and forth as much as the tight space would allow it. Something about this particular feeling was most noticeable—there must be some nerve ending in there close enough to the skin to be assaulted by even the slightest touch. Any amount of pressure the tip of his finger put on the bottom of her navel sent little electric currents directly down to her clit. It was amazing. And it infuriated her that she had never discovered this before. It was any and every tickle fetishist’s dream to be able to tickle themselves.  
Eventually each individual feeling melded together into one amalgamation of severe sensitivity and potent arousal. She was wet and couldn’t discern if it was from her bladder or her first orgasm. She hadn’t felt herself climax… although she was about to now.  
“Fuck!” She shrieked between bouts of laughter, “oh my god!”  
The release was small and disappointingly quick, but pleasurable nonetheless. She wondered if Chris could feel the moisture in the crotch of her lingerie, because he swept his knuckles tantalizingly slowly over it before launching an attack on her other thigh. The bastard.  
She wasn’t sure how many minutes of relentless tickling she had experienced, but it didn’t feel like enough when they finally stopped. It never did.  
Either way, she was grateful for the opportunity to catch her breath. Once her heart rate had steadied, she opened her eyes and looked over her chest to see the two of them nearing the end of the table. She smiled. A chill ran through her. She could feel herself growing excited again, every part of her. She wondered how many orgasms she would achieve before her session was over.  
“Look at your pretty toes!” V chirped with a sweet smile. She continued to grin herself, enjoying the fact that her boyfriend liked what he saw. She had received a pedicure this morning in preparation for this moment, and pointed and flexed her cyan-painted toes in gratitude of his compliment.  
Her feet were perfect and she knew it. Ghostly pale, whiter than the skin of her upper body hence the fact that she rarely wore open-toed shoes. Too mainstream. Instead, she kept her size ten’s sheltered in chunky platform boots and the like. Her toes were close enough to the same length, small and slender and decreasing marginally in size from her second to littlest toe. Today she had adorned her third toes with silver rings dotted with little rhinestones, and the second toe of her left foot wore two plain silver rings.  
They just _looked_ soft. Even from her view at the top of the table, her feet seemed luscious. She knew the various lotions and scrubs the pedicurist had used on her would make her skin irresistibly soft, but she had no idea just how soft until Chris wrapped his fingers around her instep and rubbed his thumb along the length of her sole. She twitched. That wasn’t a good sign. If a simple touch made her jump like that, imagine what kind of onslaught their ten fingers would bring upon her.  
“Oh, so _soft_ …” he murmured, dragging the last word out as he knelt down before her.  
“I just got a pedicure before this—“ she tried to explain, but V cut her off.  
“Probably wasn’t the best idea.”  
“No…” she agreed, her eyes wide with fear. Real fear this time. Her feet were already severely ticklish without the help of any supplemental treatment. Not as intensely ticklish as the spot between her thighs, but a close second.  
Very close. One swipe from a single finger provided by V proved that. She let out a little yelp and pressed her head against the table below her, turning to face her left arm with eyes squeezed tightly shut. She wished the flesh of her bicep were close enough to bite into—anything to provide a tactile distraction from the torture she was about to endure—but alas.  
“Oh my, darling.” Chris whispered, and she wondered if he were talking just to himself because she could barely hear him. “I’m going to have _so_ much fun with you…”  
With that, he stroked the tips four fingers from his right hand down from the balls of her foot to her heel. His nails were cut so short she couldn’t even feel them, but the poignant, feather-light touch from his soft skin was enough to get her giggling again. Her soles were incredibly sensitive. Practically still glinting under the light from the oils they had been treated with, even to say they were “incredibly sensitive” was an understatement.  
She tried to force out one final plead before the torture began, but all that came out of her open mouth were giggles of a pitch so high they sounded more like screeches.  
V held her right foot in place with the index finger and thumb of his left hand looped around her big toe. He pulled her foot back so that any wrinkles in her skin were smoothed out, supplying him with every little ticklish crevice with which to torment. He scribbled the fingers of his right hand rapidly against her sole, occasionally drifting up to the ball of her foot or down to her heel. His nails were very short, but long enough to feel against her sensitized skin. She screamed. Long and loud and it dissipated into laughter.  
V wasn’t as careful and thorough as Chris with his fingers, he was younger and more impatient with all of the energy he had, and he was also a sub. He wasn’t well versed in the total overstimulation and domination of another person. But he had an advantage with those short remnants of fingernails.  
Even with less of a nail, Chris’s slow and gentle style of teasing was torture just as much as V’s expeditious scrabbling.  
He held her toes back with his left hand and used the tip of his index finger to a draw slow, teasing line back and forth on the most sensitive of flesh where the ball of her foot met her toes. After six minutes that felt to Dev like six hours, Chris dragged his finger—never breaking contact with her silky skin—right, towards the ball of her foot beneath her big toe, and traced slow, lazy circles around it with contradicting precision and intensity.  
There was no way to discern which of her boys was causing her more distress. She could feel an impending wetness in her loins, but she knew this time it would be the release of her bladder to dampen the thin cotton and black lace that concealed her.  
“Stop,” she wailed, “fuck, I can’t take it anymore! No more, no more, I can’t take any more!”  
It was amazing she got that many words out between her desperate peals of laughter. And it was even more amazing that her tormentors let up after her exclamation.  
She panted heavily and blinked rapidly to quell the tears in her eyes. Her cheeks were rosy and her lungs burned from overuse with little oxygen to run on.  
The guys, granting her reprieve, took to massaging her tortured soles with gentle movements but enough pressure not to cause any involuntary knismesis.  
She began to moan, soft and calm, once she was breathing normally. Now that the pressure in her bladder had dulled to something she could ignore, she felt herself dripping warmth again. Even something as simple as a casual massage would trigger her foot fetish and subdue her.  
She was practically melting under their touch. Just when she thought it couldn’t get any better, it got worse. They stopped. She groaned indignantly and looked over a them with a furrowed brow and pouting lips. V walked back up to the front of the table and she stiffened (as much as she could in her stretched-taut position) in preparation for another ticklish incursion on her upper body. She eyed Chris, who still stood at the end of the table, curiously. Just then, V leaned down and whispered into her ear like he had done earlier. (How long had she been in here? An hour? More?)  
“He’s got something special for ya…” V told her in a smug, knowing tone. He was watching Chris as well, his big round blue eyes following his boyfriend’s every move. Chris reaches up and produced a chain that had apparently been hanging from the ceiling this whole time. Dev hadn’t even seen it when they had entered the room earlier. But she saw it now as Chris pulled it down and fastened it to the bar she had assumed was just part of the table until Chris detached it from the padding. He then set to work on disconnecting the leather that bound her legs to the table and exposed her milky white calves, which sweat still clung to and caused her skin to chill at the sudden exposure to the cool air of the room. Finally, Chris hiked her legs up into the air with two swift tugs on the other end of the chain, and Devin felt a sudden pressure on her hips from where the leather band bound her to the table. It dug into her flesh not tight enough to produce any pain, but enough to make her realize that she was possibly even less mobile than before.  
Devin found herself breathing heavily in anticipation of what was to come. She closed her eyes when she felt V’s lips against her neck, and was suddenly overwhelmed with pleasure. Neither of them were touching her, yet she was beginning to put together their intentions. The thought of intimacy while restrained had never even crossed her mind when she prepared herself for this day. But now it was all she was thinking about. She wanted them both and she wanted them _now_. And after feeling V’s hair brush against her ear as he worked on adorning a hickey on her neck, she realized she still wanted to be tickled. She wanted it all. She opened her eyes and looked into Chris’s as he stepped towards her and leaned down so that he was in her face. He closed his eyes and turned so that he was whispering into her other ear.  
“I want to make you scream.”  
She understood now that she could not have it all, she could only have what her dom would give to her. And somehow she desired that more.  
He was on the table with her now, kneeling before her parted legs. He worked her underwear up her thighs until he had enough room for… what?  
She watched with slowly closing eyes as he lowered himself until he was eye-level with her crotch.  
Oh.  
He leaned in and made contact with his tongue. The warmth of his mouth enhanced the heat of her own juices that still leaked from her, invited by nothing but anticipation.  
_Oh_ …  
V unclasped her bra from the front (what a marvelous invention, the front closure bra) and exposed her chest, watched as her C-cups spilled out and eyed them hungrily. He could see the faint red imprint of the lace pattern on her bra against her porcelain skin. He created a red-violet hickey directly below her collarbone on the left side and then buried his face in her bust. Her skin was so soft… she had told him before that she had once spent an entire week’s paycheck on lotion.  
She smelled so good… probably the lotion. She was perfect and she was here and she was _his_. He wasn’t a dom but he often submitted to his own masculine nature and topped her. Now that her lower half was occupied, he satisfied himself with her chest. He took her left nipple into his mouth and caressed each of her breasts with his hands, trying to massage her and increase her pleasure but mostly just fondling her flesh for the sake of touching her soft skin.  
Despite the overwhelming pleasure that occupied every recess of her mind, Devin moaned softly and sensually. Long and drawn out but quiet. She swore to herself every time the two of them had their way with her at the same time that it was the best she’d ever had. She swore to herself again.  
Chris plunged his tongue into her hole and lapped at her most delicate flesh, tongue-fucking her between long periods of sucking on her clit. The only thing on his mind was pleasuring her, making sure every little thing he did was right, somehow finding the time to overanalyze the situation while he was on his knees tongue-deep in his girlfriend.  
She, on the other hand, was experiencing bliss in its purest form. He knew how to treat her so well… She assumed it couldn’t be that hard to eat a girl out, a person’s tongue felt good anywhere down there, but maybe it was because it was Chris and maybe because Chris was hers that she felt as though his head was perfect.  
She came only once, somehow, but had she not been restrained, it would have brought her to her knees. She arched her back as much as she was able (and made it hardly an inch off the table) and cried out sonorously, shutting her eyes tightly as her face contorted in a gasp.  
She whimpered as she felt her clit convulse in Chris’s mouth while she rode out her orgasm. She was still tingling when he lowered her legs and undid her bonds. V asked her if she was ready to get off the table, his voice a gentle whisper, and she nodded. Swallowed, and spoke her reply.  
“Y-Yeah.”  
He detached the leather around her arms and guided them to her chest before helping her up with one arm around her shoulders. She swung her legs over the side of the table and sat up, sighing through a head rush before bending to pull her lingerie back up and sitting again to fasten her bra. Chris curled an arm around her midsection and placed a kiss into her hair. She relaxed into the embrace of her men and took a moment to close her eyes and take a deep, steadying breath.  
When she opened them again, she sat up straight and looked between the two of them.  
“Alright,” she announced, “who’s next?”


End file.
